


Bug Spray is for Boy Scouts

by adaille



Series: Dean’s decisions get him in trouble [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, First Kiss, Light Impact Play, M/M, Slapping, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 10:54:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15095222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaille/pseuds/adaille
Summary: Dean invites Cas to go star-gazing, and Cas takes the opportunity to test the boundaries of what they are to each other.###He could hear Dean gritting his teeth. “Anyway, what’s it to you?”“Alright, whatever. Just pack some bug spray, dude.”“Fuck off. Bug spray is for boy scouts.”“Nothing wrong with being prepared.”Cas expected a sharp retort, Dean assuring Sam that oh ho, Dean Winchester is always prepared, complete with eye waggle, but Dean was nearly silent, mumbling half-syllables and interrupted thoughts as he finished packing the cooler.





	Bug Spray is for Boy Scouts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Charlie572](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie572/gifts).



> In case you’re curious, the decision that got Dean into trouble this time was his failure to pack bug spray. :D

Cas finished changing into the jeans and threadbare t-shirt he’d stolen from Dean, and headed back towards the war room to wait for their trip to a nearby meadow. The hunter’s voice drifted to him from the kitchen, pitched low, as if he’d once again forgotten that Cas’s grace enhanced everything about his vessel.

He could’ve heard Dean from his room, if he focused hard enough.

“Outta my way, Sammy. You’re blocking the fridge.”

“Seriously, star-gazing? Who’re you and what’d you do with my brother?”

“Shut it. He’s, you know, he’s stuck here with us for a while, I thought it might be nice.”

“Nice to what, spend some time looking up at heaven? You’ve heard of it, right? That place he can’t go back to without toeing the party line?”

“No, just...nice to see there’s stuff down here that’s cool to look at, too. It’s not all bad, being - “

Dean trailed off, but Cas’s brain filled in the words the hunter might’ve used based on how Dean would expect him to feel. Nearly human. Stuck.

Trapped?

Grounded.

The others didn’t bother him, but the last one still stung.

He could hear Dean gritting his teeth. “Anyway, what’s it to you?”

“Alright, whatever. Just pack some bug spray, dude.”

“Fuck off. Bug spray is for boy scouts.”

“Nothing wrong with being prepared.”

Cas expected a sharp retort, Dean assuring Sam that _oh ho, Dean Winchester is always prepared_ , complete with eye waggle, but Dean was nearly silent, mumbling half-syllables and interrupted thoughts as he finished packing the cooler. If Castiel’s hearing was archangel quality, he’d’ve sworn he heard his name several times. As it was, maybe Dean just had some strong opinions at the moment about cats. Or caps.

It could be anything, really.

The angel mulled over the invite Dean had extended while he continued to wait. The hunter was going out there alone with Cas, at night, in the dark, to a meadow, to eat snacks and drink beer and look at the sky. A joke about condoms might’ve just seemed crude to him, given the circumstances. Lewd, in a context that also encompassed his self-proclaimed best friend.

Or too on the nose, given the longing pouring out of Dean’s soul in waves, searching for his own grace?

It was something to consider.

#

They’d settled in too close, Cas deciding to test the limits of Dean’s tolerance for people in his personal space. For once, the hunter didn’t complain.

They sat side by side, leaning back on their wrists, staring up at the sky, just enjoying the silence they’d fallen into. Dean was a solid line of heat at his side, a source of warmth he was resisting the urge to move closer to, raising the hairs on his vessel’s bare arms.

The hunter swallowed the rest of his beer, Cas watching as his throat moved.

“Want another?”

Cas hummed, noncommittal, and Dean leaned forward to raid the cooler. The angel watched as a tiny insect moved through the darkness, and landed on the back of Dean’s neck. His hand flashed out without thinking.

*SLAP*

Dean whimpered, breath caught and heartbeat speeding. “Fuck, Cas, what was that?”

The hunter’s hand moved to rub out the sting, his face turned away. Interesting. Perhaps this was why the pizza man kept slapping people.

“You had a mosquito. Here.” Cas brushed Dean’s hand aside, tracing a spot in the middle of the temporary handprint he’d left on Dean’s skin, gentle enough to -

There. Dean’s breath caught again, and Cas felt a thrill of heat in his vessel.

“Yeah, well,” Dean cleared his throat. “Bugs. What’re you gonna do?”

“Mmm.”

Dean leaned forward, searching for the bottle opener he’d left somewhere in the grass.

*SLAP*

Cas brought his hand down hard on the other side of Dean’s neck, cupping it against his skin, and lingering. Dean gasped at the contact and shifted, almost squirming. Castiel could feel the surge of heat under his fingers and squinted, looking for - yes, Dean was flushing.

He lifted his hand, pretending to peer under it for the non-existent insect. “I believe I missed again.”

Dean coughed. “Gotta work on those reflexes, man.”

“Hm, yes, perhaps I - Oh!” Cas fake-spotted the offending mosquito a third time, slapping first Dean’s upper arm, then another spot lower down by Dean’s wrist. “Ah. It got away. Wait - “

*SLAP*

“I apologize, did that hurt? Let me just - ” He gripped Dean’s arm firmly in one hand, rubbing out the pink marks with the other, feeling how Dean’s pulse raised, his breaths rasping too shallow. A human would likely have missed the signs, but Cas wasn’t human. Not yet.

Dean rocked his hips side to side as Cas continued to rub, the press of his jeans no doubt uncomfortable against the sudden swell of his cock. Cas could smell the precome leaking from him, the heady musk mingled with sweat, seeping into the thin fabric separating Dean from his zipper.

“It’s, it’s alright, Cas. Really, ‘m fine.” His voice trembled.

Cas let him go, and they returned to watching the sky. Dean couldn’t settle back into the calm he’d had before, his soul still flickering too brightly. It had clearly felt good to Dean, what Cas had done. He shouldn’t push any further tonight, though. He shouldn’t risk scaring the man - but his body and soul were so responsive when Cas touched him.

When Cas slapped him.

Hm.

Irresistible.

#

The moon had shifted across the sky, Dean had calmed, settling at ease again with Cas in his space, his shoulder brushing Cas’s as he pointed out constellations to the angel.

“You angels have any stories about ‘em?”

“About who?”

“The stars, man.”

Cas shifted closer, leaning back on the wrist closest to Dean, slotting the side of his chest against Dean’s upper arm in a solid line. “Which stars?”

“Any.” Dean cleared his throat, his soul flickering. “Any of ‘em. Hey, Cas, um, you know, you, you get that friends don’t sit like - ”

“We don’t tell our own stories about the stars in heaven, no. But I am familiar with many of the stories humans have told.”

Castiel left the silence for the crickets to fill while he considered the best way to proceed.

“Any of ‘em in particular, angel?” Dean flushed again, no doubt intending the word to sound more flippant than the breathy, intimate way it had come out.

“Mmm. Yes. You see that one?”

“Which one?”

“That one, right there.” Cas leaned further over, stubble pressed behind Dean’s ear, chest against his shoulder blades. Fingers brushed lightly against the hunter’s opposite shoulder, holding Dean still while his other hand trailed to grip Dean’s wrist, lifting it to point at one of the more difficult to find Nordic patterns.

“Oh,” Dean breathed.

He withdrew, releasing Dean, and told him the story Gabriel may or may not have made up for his own amusement.

For the next constellation, he repeated the movement, lingering with his head against Dean’s as he shared another outrageous tale, this time from Balthazar. Dean chuckled in all the right places, but Cas could sense his distraction, no doubt due in part to the rich scent of arousal Dean was giving off the longer Cas touched him.

Rubbing small circles on Dean’s wrist as they sat was a bit too far, it seemed, as Dean popped up, shrugging his shoulders out as he mumbled some nonsense about getting snacks. He stretched, working the kinks out, then bent over to pick up the empty beer bottles near their feet, presenting a perfect target.

*SLAP*

Cas brought his hand down hard on Dean’s ass, almost knocking him forward into the grass.

Dean yelped, the sound strangled and cracked. “Cas - “

“There was an insect on you.”

Dean’s erection was making a rapid reappearance, and he refused to turn around, no doubt thinking Cas couldn’t already see it in the poor light.  “Cas, it doesn’t matter if they land on my clothes, they can’t bite me through my jea - “

*SLAP*

“Cas!” Now both of his cheeks would be burning; even denim wouldn’t be able to dampen two strikes from an angelic hand. Dean rubbed them harder than necessary, no doubt hoping the friction would distract him.

It made things worse, if the smell of precome and the glow of his soul were any indication.

“I apologize, you were saying?”

“They can’t bite me through my clothes, Cas.”

“Oh. I apologize, it was an accident.”

Dean laughed. “Mistake, not accident. An accident would mean - ”

*SLAP*

Cas hit him so hard on the bottom edge of his ass, he tilted forward onto his toes with a choked gasp, his cock coming to full mast, plastered tight against his leg by his pants. He whipped around, glaring at Cas where he sat on the ground, a flush dark enough for humans to see high on his cheekbones.

“What the hell, Cas?”

“I apologize. It was another accident. My protective reflexes are difficult to suppress.”

“They’re just mosquitos, Cas. Not like I’m gonna catch malaria in Kansas. You don’t have to protect me from them.”

Dean swayed in place, clearly having forgotten why he’d stood up and what he’d been planning to do. He tried to sit in the same place he’d occupied before, but Cas intercepted, reaching up to snag his arm and pull him between Cas’s raised knees, settling his sore cheeks against Cas’s hips. The friction was exquisite, likely more so for Dean in his current state.

“Cas - “

The angel leaned close behind him - much too close for friends, he was well aware. His breath whispered across the shell of Dean’s ear, raising goosebumps down his neck. “Hm, perhaps the risk of malaria is low. But it’d be a shame to let an insect mark that freckled skin of yours.”

Dean squeaked, and Cas nosed under the lobe of his ear. “Especially when I do so enjoy marking it myself.”

“Cas - “ Dean arched against him, then started to pull away. “Cas, we can’t - you don’t understand what you’re saying, when humans say something like that, they mean - “

Castiel growled softly, wrapping an arm around Dean’s chest, holding him in place. Dean tugged, testing the restraints, his soul surging bright and the heat in his body spiking higher as they held firm.

“Cas - “

He flicked the top of Dean’s ear, hard, then apologized, saying he thought he saw another insect land before letting Dean go. The hunter moved in tiny jerks, first away, then toward, then back away from Cas, his face confused.

“You look tense, Dean. Here.” Cas took mercy on him, moving his hips away from Dean, then gripped the tops of his shoulders, kneading the rigid muscles. “Would you like to know Gabriel’s theory on Cassiopeia?”

He alternated, first telling stories and giving Dean tiny amounts of space until he caught his breath, then pressing in and flicking or slapping ‘insects’ away from the man’s trembling body.

It felt like eons had passed before Dean started to lose himself, his head thrown back on Cas’s shoulder, throat exposed as he looked up at the sky, hips moving restlessly as Castiel made up an erotic story of his own. His two favorite brothers would be proud.

“Dean.”

“Mmm? Oh, heya, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.”

“God, I love when you say that,” Dean blurted, then tried to hide his face by turning away.

“Don’t hide from me, Dean.”

“You don’t even know, Cas. You’re, you’re - “ Dean waved a hand at the sky.

Cas hummed right by his ear, and Dean rewarded him with a gasp and a whispered _please_. He turned his face toward Cas, expression open and pleading, lips parted, and Cas kissed him, and took him apart in the meadow with the stars as witness.


End file.
